


The Sins of my Heart

by Magicalmanda



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 3x05, Alternate ending to 3x05, M/M, bullet wounds, insecure/nervous Ian, mentions of first kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicalmanda/pseuds/Magicalmanda
Summary: Mickey gets shot, Ian's family is threatened, and the boys have a moment (or twenty)





	The Sins of my Heart

Above all the chaos of the house and the excruciating pain in his ass, three words rang clear in Mickey’s ears.  
  
“Child Protective Services.”  
  
“Oh shit.” Mickey breathed and Ian snapped his head towards the dark hair boy. Mickey looked up at him and saw what could only be described as _panic _. Fucking grandpa behind him used the distraction to dig out the remaining part of the bullet and Mickey hollowed in pain. He felt a large hand grip his shoulder and he recognized it as Ian’s. The commotion in the living room started up again as Fiona dragged the small Asian woman outside and all the young kids started playing, unaware of the impending doom coming towards the Gallagher household.__  
  
“You’re done.” Ian said, his distraction obvious in his tone. Mickey leaned back and pulled his pants up, careful not to do it too roughly. Ian dragged Ned out onto the back porch and Mickey tried to seem unaffected. He turned towards Iggy.  
  
“Go help Manny move the stuff,” He said. “I’ll meet you guys back at the house.”  
  
“You sure?” Iggy asked, eyeing his little brother.  
  
“Yeah,” Mickey said, waving him off. “I gotta kick Gallagher’s ass, one old lady, yeah right.” Iggy snorted and went through the living room through the front door. Fiona and the agent came back inside as Iggy left and the agent started looking over the disaster area of a living room with a critical eye. Mickey slipped up the back stairs before anyone could notice him. He found what he assumed to be the boy’s room, if the posters of Megan Fox were any indication. He decided the bed with the camo bedspread must be Ian’s and he gingerly sat down.  
  
He found some cigarettes in the redhead’s bed side drawer and lit one. He tried not to think of Ian downstairs talking to the older guy he was fucking. He tried not to think about Ian’s face when they had met in the street outside that dumb bar, or the way Ian’s lips felt against his own. Slack with surprise and tasting like cigarettes. Mickey tried to forget the big stupid smile that had spread across the kid’s face once Mickey had pulled away and was running back towards the house. Mickey exhaled heavily through his nose. The smoked tickled his lips and Mickey subconsciously licked at the delicate skin.  
  
Why had he done it? Just so that the fucking grandpa wouldn’t have one up on him? Mickey tried to convince himself that that was all it was, but he knew deep down that he did it because Ian had wanted him to. He could see it in the redhead’s eyes, the way they trailed over Mickey’s face, always hovering too long on his lips. He could tell by the way Ian swallowed and his eyes got big whenever Mickey bit his lower lip, and if Mickey had started increasing the habit, it was only to see more of the red blush that crept up Ian’s neck whenever he did.  
  
Mickey stubbed out the cigarette and immediately lit another, nervous about what was going to happen when the redhead eventually found him sitting on his bed. Mickey had just finished off that cigarette when he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Sure enough, Ian was opening the door a few seconds later.  
  
“Jesus!” he said upon seeing Mickey, he had jumped back a bit, hand almost coming up to his chest. Mickey just raised his eyebrows at him and exhaled some smoke. “What are you still doing here?” Ian came further into the room and pulled his blood stained shirt over his head.  
  
“Iggy had to split,” Mickey lied, watching as Ian tossed his old shirt and grabbed a new one. “Figured I’d rest up here for a bit and walk home. Lick my wounds so to speak.” He smirked up at Ian. The younger boy rolled his eyes and pulled the clean shirt on over his head. “You’ve got blood on your temple.” Mickey said, gesturing to his face. Ian grabbed his recently discarded shirt and wiped at his head.  
  
“How did I get your ass blood on my face?” He asked incredulously as he pitched the shirt again and sat on the bed. Mickey offered him the cigarette and Ian took a long drag.  
  
“Thank your fucking grandpa for that,” Mickey said and Ian blew smoke into the air.  
  
“He’s not my grandpa,” He said back. “He’s not my anything anymore.” He handed the cigarette back to Mickey.  
  
“What, you dump him?” he asked, trying not to sound too interested. Ian laid down on the space between Mickey’s feet and the footboard. Mickey watched his stomach muscles move under his tight shirt.  
  
“Yeah, lied and told him I couldn’t hurt Jimmy like that.” Ian said and Mickey was confused.  
  
“Wait, who the fuck is Jimmy?” he asked after stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray.  
  
“Fiona’s boyfriend and Ned’s son.” Ian said without looking at Ian. Mickey laughed.  
  
“You were fucking your sister’s boyfriend’s dad?” he asked. Ian glared at him.  
  
“I didn’t know he was his dad at the time!” he protested.  
  
“Jesus Christ Gallagher your life is a fucking soap opera.” Mickey said with a laugh. Ian went quiet and Mickey was painfully aware of the small Asian woman’s voice from downstairs. He pulled out another cigarette. “So DFS is gonna take you huh?” Ian nodded solemnly.  
  
“It never lasts though,” he said and Mickey wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince. Mickey handed over the cigarette and watched Ian tuck it in between his lean fingers.  
  
“They’ll stop bothering after awhile,” Mickey said with a sniff. “We broke them in four years I think.”  
  
“Jesus,” Ian said. “This will be the fifth time in three years.” Mickey gave him a smirk, but it felt weak.  
  
“Yeah well, Milkovich’s have a certain charm.” He said and Ian laughed.  
  
“Hand guns and knuckle tattoos?” Ian asked turning his head to smile at Mickey and Mickey counted it as a win that he seemed to have distracted the red head from what was happening downstairs.  
  
“Something like that.” Mickey said, bringing the cigarette to his lips. He watched Ian track the movement, eyes glazing over slightly and it didn’t take a genius to tell what Ian was thinking, what he was remembering. Because Mickey was remembering it too. Mickey stubbed out the cigarette.  
  
“My ass is probably too sore for fucking, but we could do blowjobs,” he said brazenly and Ian starred at him for a second. He sat up quickly but didn’t move towards Mickey.  
  
“Nah, I’m exhausted.” He said. “I’m just gonna take a nap.” Mickey watched the younger boy stand up and kick off his shoes. His voice was casual enough, but his back was a tense line.  
  
“You worried?” Mickey asked quietly and Ian looked at him over his shoulder, his gaze calculating.  
  
“Yeah,” he finally said and his voice was quiet. “Like I said, it’s our seventh time, but I always worry.” Mickey nodded, he knew that feeling. That unease in your stomach that maybe they wouldn’t come back this time, maybe your parents would leave you for good. Mickey knew Ian didn’t have to worry about that last part. Fiona would move heaven and earth to get them back, but Mickey hadn’t been so lucky. “Lip and I will probably be placed in a home this time. We’re too old. Probably get harassed and shit” Mickey wiggled around on the bed, trying to get to his wallet. He hissed when the bullet wound took too much weight, but he grabbed the offending piece of leather anyway.  
  
“C’mere,” he said as he flipped through the contents. Ian sat down on the edge of the bed watching him. Mickey pulled out a small white card that was dirty around the corners. “You got a pen?” Ian grabbed one of his bedside table and handed it over. Mickey flipped the card over and scribbled on the back before handing it over to Ian.  
  
“Your dad has a fucking business card?” Ian asked, eyes stuck on the Terry Milkovich printed above a phone number and business hours.  
  
“He tars roofs when he’s not in prison.” Mickey said. “Turn it over.” Ian did and read the back out loud.  
  
“Mikhailo Milkovich sends his regards.” Ian asked. “Who is Mikhailo Milkovich?”  
  
“What the fuck do you mean?” Mickey asked gruffly. “It’s me.” Ian gaped at him.  
  
“Mickey is short for Mikhailo?” he asked. Mickey furrowed his eyebrows.  
  
“What the fuck else would it be short for?” he asked, getting defensive.  
  
“I don’t know, Michael maybe?” Ian suggested, eyes back on the card.  
  
“Fuck you.” Mickey grumbled and Ian recognized his kicked puppy tone.  
  
“So this is like for protection right?” Ian asked. “I whip it out to whoever is bullying little old me and they get scared as fuck that a Milkovich is gonna come beat their ass?”  
  
“Little you?” Mickey scoffed. “You’re over six feet tall firecrotch.” Ian shifted to sit next to Mickey, his back leaned next to his on the headboard.  
  
“Yeah, but people see the pale skin and red hair and think I’m an easy target.” Ian said, his tone trying to be playful but missing the mark just enough that Mickey noticed.  
  
“Yeah well, tell those jackasses that you have a Milkovich on your side.”  
  
“Not just any Milkovich, Mikhailo Milkovich.” Ian teased. “How do people even know you by that name?”  
  
“Well Mickey isn’t that fucking intimidating.” Mickey said. “Mikhailo Milkovich kinda sounds like I’m in the mafia or something.” Ian snorted but didn’t disagree.  
  
“Thanks,” he said after a minute, voice going soft again. He was looking at the card, thumb rubbing over the bottom of it again and again.  
  
“Don’t mention it,” Mickey said, hoping Ian would take the words to heart and never speak of this again. “Now my ass is still sore so I’m fucking taking a nap.” He shifted very uncomfortably until he was laying down on his side, his back pressed against the wall. Ian looked down at him for a second before blushing and moving off the bed.  
  
“You can stay,” Mickey said quietly, his eyes not meeting Ian’s.  
  
“Really?” Ian asked, surprise clear in his voice.  
  
“Yeah, stay.” Ian put the card on top of his dresser and shucked out of his camo pants. He lay down carefully next to Mickey, and in such a small bed they were forced up next to one another. Figuring he was already this far, Mickey bit the bullet and slung his arm over Ian’s middle, tucking his face against the boy’s shoulder. Ian let out a shuddery breath and snaked an arm around Mickey’s back.  
  
“What if someone comes in?” Ian whispered.  
  
“They know you’re gay right?” Mickey asked, nuzzling into Ian’s shoulders to get comfortable.  
  
“Yeah, but they don’t that know that we’re…” Ian trailed off and there it was, the million-dollar question, what were they? “Well actually, Lip knows we’re fucking, but none of the others do.” Mickey hummed a bit, wondering how Ian would have finished that sentence if he hadn’t remembered his brother’s knowledge.  
  
“They’re gonna find out sooner or later right?” Mickey mumbled sleepily.  
  
“Right,” Ian said, though he was surprised that Mickey was okay with his family knowing about them, even if they were just fucking. Pretty soon the raven-haired boy was snoring softly on Ian’s chest while the ginger gazed up at the ceiling, more relaxed than he had been in days.

**Author's Note:**

> I started my first year of college so I've been busy and unmotivated. I'm hoping this can get me back in the game.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> PS if you rewatch this episode, Ian does actually have blood on his head. I don't know how


End file.
